


Fated Names

by punkerbones



Category: MTMTE - Fandom, The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Soulmate AU, conjunx endurae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 03:54:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11119371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkerbones/pseuds/punkerbones
Summary: Inspired by the very talented warlordenfilade's soulmate au headcanon. Everyone has the name of their True Love on one arm, and the name of their Mortal Enemy on the other. When Tarn realizes that he mistaken his True Love for his Mortal Enemy, he is stricken with guilt and tries to make it up to Deathsaurus. However, there is something that is always bothering him and will not leave his thoughts...What names does Deathsaurus bear on his arms?





	Fated Names

Disbelief had a rather insidious way of getting to Tarn.

Any more, it seemed that it was content to manifest itself through shock and horror, neither of which the masked mech was appreciative of.

It’s first, and what Tarn had thought would be the worst, was when he’d discovered that the one he had devoted his entire following, life, and being to, the Traitor Megatron, had defected to the Autobots.

Fate, however, saw it fit to dig the proverbial blade in deeper and twist it.

That had come when Tarn had met Deathsaurus. The warworld commander with a small Decepticon crew and army at his disposal. The one that had, even if it was under strained circumstances, eventually welcomed Tarn and the DJD aboard their warworld. The one that had agreed to help Tarn in ridding the world of the Traitor’s existence to help purify the Cause.

...the one that had stolen Tarn’s spark by simply existing, and never even knowing the power that they held over the DJD leader.

The horror of realizing that he had Listed and been seeking to kill his One True Love, the one whose name he bore on his forearm, had almost been too much for Tarn to bear. And while he had managed to keep his composure, the guilt and self-loathing hadn’t abated. If anything, they seemed to get worse the more time he spent with Deathsaurus.

If the beastformer harbored any ill will towards Tarn, it was well concealed, and it only weakened whatever defenses the DJD leader may have tried to construct. Every conversation, every touch, and every moment together drove the point further to Tarn’s spark that the masked mech had been terribly wrong in believing Deathsaurus to be the one that he would have to face in mortal combat.

And any time the sickening thought that Tarn may have, at one point, readily killed his True Love for the personal satisfaction of the Traitor wormed its way into the DJD leader’s thoughts, it was almost too much to bear.

So, it had, of course, only been a matter of time until Tarn found the courage to ask to see the names that were inscribed on Deathsaurus’s arms.

The beastformer had been careful to conceal the names, whether through angles, paint, or even pieces of fabric, Deathsaurus had been sure to keep Tarn from seeing the names. And any time that the DJD leader asked any of the warworld commander’s crew about the names, they would give him an odd look, then shake their helm and walk away. The most answer he’d ever managed to get was that he should stop asking about them.

Again, disbelief managed to snake its way into Tarn’s thoughts, and this time it was with the spark-wrenching whisper that neither of the names on Deathsaurus’s arms were Tarn’s.

The thought had taken a mercifully long time to occur to Tarn, but when it did, it was relentless in hounding the masked mech’s thoughts. It gnawed at him, tore at his willpower, and haunted his every moment. Every time he looked at Deathsaurus, there was the agonizing feeling that the beastformer was never to reciprocate the feelings that Tarn had for them.

Bitterly, Tarn found it to be suiting. He had never been more than a servant. And after he had maliciously threatened and hunted the one that he should have cherished for eternity, perhaps he _deserved_ this unspoken torture. Perhaps he deserved to always see what he could never have. That was what Tarn had always existed for in the first place, wasn’t it?

To love and adore, but to never have those returned to him.

It was a defeat fitting for such a monster such as Tarn.

A defeat that he was to suffer eternally from in the continual-

“Tarn?”

Deathsaurus’s voice, a little raised so as to get the tankformer’s attention, snapped Tarn out of his crippling thoughts. With a quick shake of his helm, the masked mech looked up at the beastformer, who was regarding him with a puzzled look. They made a short chuckle and quirked a helm ridge.

“You were doing it again.”

“I beg your pardon?” Tarn asked, feigning confusion.

“You were off in your thoughts and not telling me,” Deathsaurus teased with a knowing smile and chuckle.

“Ah, my apologies, just…”

“Just what?” Deathsaurus asked, walking over and lightly setting a hand on Tarn’s shoulder.

The touch sent shivers through the tankformer’s frame. It was incredible how such a simple touch, even after everything that had transpired between them, from their first kiss to their first night of intimacy together, could still send trembles of desire through the DJD leader.

“...you know what it is.”

“I do?” Deathsaurus asked, tilting his helm to the side, his finials twitching a little in curiosity.

“The names,” Tarn murmured.

His smile evaporating, Deathsaurus ventilated a long sigh and let his hand fall from Tarn’s shoulder. He looked away, gaze darkening and wings tucking against his back slight degree. Tarn knew that he had touched on a subject that irritated the warworld commander, but he couldn’t bring himself to lie to Deathsaurus. There had been enough lies between them to fill multiple lifetimes, the DJD leader didn’t need to be providing any more.

“Tarn,” Deathsaurus groaned quietly, rubbing his face in a mix of frustration and exasperation. “We’ve been over this, I told you that I don’t want-”

“-to discuss them, I know,” Tarn finished, cutting Deathsaurus off. “But will you not at least let me see so that I can assist you in finding the two that you are fated to meet? At least let me help that much.”

“I...I don’t want your help finding them. I’m fine where I’m at in my life, Tarn,” Deathsaurus replied haltingly, his optics narrowing. He then fixed a baleful, almost hurt, gaze on the DJD leader. “If you’re that desperate to usher yourself out of my life, there’s certainly nothing stopping you. You know where you can-”

“No!” Tarn interrupted, alarm and horror gripping him with equally vicious holds. “That’s-that’s not what I meant, Deathsaurus. I just-”

“Then what did you mean, Tarn?” the beastformer asked, his gaze unwavering.

“I just…” Sighing heavily, the masked mech trailed off, his gaze falling. Perhaps it would have been better to lie to Deathsaurus, rather than upset them like this. Reluctantly, he lifted his gaze back up to the winged mech’s, feeling uncharacteristically helpless to try and appease them. “I merely want to ensure that you’re happy, is all.”

Fortunately, Tarn’s words seemed to cut through whatever anger Deathsaurus may have had, because the beastformer’s expression promptly changed to one of surprise and then to a weak smile. He scoffed quietly and shook his helm, then stepped towards Tarn and gently caressed the side of their helm. Deathsaurus was careful to keep the action slow and deliberate, so as to keep Tarn from instinctually panicking at the sight of someone reaching for his trademark mask.

Once again, the touch melted through whatever negative emotions Tarn may have been feeling at that time, and he slowly, but eagerly, nuzzled his helm against Deathsaurus’s hand. He sighed in tired contentment, trying not to think that graceful caresses like these were finite, and that eventually, it would be someone else who enjoyed the comfort of Deathsaurus’s presence and touch.

“Tarn,” the winged mech said quietly, his gaze catching Tarn’s. “I _am_ happy. You don’t need to concern yourself with my happiness, because I’ve already got it.”

 _But it is a temporary and fleeting happiness,_ Tarn thought bitterly. _One that will eventually be replaced by a far superior and permanent one._

“You don’t believe me,” Deathsaurus stated sadly, his hand falling from Tarn’s shoulder.

Not realizing that his thoughts had been so blatantly conveyed, Tarn stood up a little straighter and composed himself. Regardless of the emotions, moments, and passions he shared with Deathsaurus, there was no excuse to lose his self control and go to pieces in front of the warworld commander. He quickly shook his helm, using the brief moments to make his expression, however hidden it may be, neutral.

“I do, Deathsaurus, I do. I’m just concerned that you may end up hurt far more if I cannot help by even some small degree.”

His gaze going back up to Tarn, Deathsaurus studied the tankformer for a long moment, his crimson optics flicking over their frame and trying to read whatever expression may have been behind their mask. After a few moments, a ghost of a smile returned to the beastformer’s features, and he sighed softly before answering.

“You can help by not trying to usher yourself out of my life any faster than fate decides,” Deathsaurus answered quietly but firmly. “Should the need for you to concern yourself about the names I bear, then I will share them with you. Agreed?”

Though it didn’t sit well with him, and Tarn had a feeling that his curiosity would not be denied for much longer, the masked mech nodded slowly in response.

 

* * *

 

Deathsaurus slept so peacefully.

Tarn marveled at how calmly the beastformer could rest and still be able to wake up at the sound of a pin dropping.

Watching as the winged mech slept contentedly beside him, their frame in the pleasant hold of post-interface exhaustion, Tarn let his gaze slowly go across their frame. Even though the wounds had healed, there were still scars and marks from old battles that were flecked across Deathsaurus’s armor. Some appeared to be deep enough that they must have been grievous injuries when they were initially inflicted.

Feeling a helplessly adoring smile tug at his scarred features, Tarn reached over and caressed the side of Deathsaurus’s face lightly. It was just enough that they tilted their helm so that the DJD leader could lean forward and softly press the mouth slit of his mask against Deathsaurus’s slightly parted lips.

Leaning back a little, pausing so as to look down at Deathsaurus’s peaceful expression, Tarn felt his smile widen a little and he started to lay back and try to get some rest himself.

...and that’s when he saw it.

 _Scimitar_.

Though he hadn’t done it on purpose, and hadn’t anticipated that their interfacing would rub away the paint that Deathsaurus had used to conceal the names, Tarn froze at the sight of the name. He felt his spark do a weak, almost sickly, twist in his chassis, and the masked mech gritted his dentae to stifle and sounds he may have reflexively made.

It wasn’t enough, however, to keep Deathsaurus from waking up. The close proximity of someone over him roused the beastformer from their recharge, and his optics flickered open and he looked up at Tarn. For a few moments, his optics narrowed in confusion, but then the warworld commander’s expression relaxed and he tilted his helm to the side.

“Tarn? What is it?”

Biting down on his glossa, not sure whether or not to answer truthfully, Tarn quickly raced through his thoughts in an attempt to try and decide how to answer.

“Tarn, what is-” Deathsaurus stopped when he saw where, exactly, the tankformer was looking. He glanced down at his arm and, upon seeing that the name had been exposed, sighed heavily. He collapsed back against the berth, groaning and rubbing his face, but keeping the name on his other arm protectively hidden. “...so now you know one of the names. Satisfied?”

“...what happens when Scimitar arrives?” Tarn asked, his voice smaller and tighter than he meant it to be, but his emotions had gripped his spark too viciously to relent.

Sighing heavily again, Deathsaurus sat up with a groan, hugging himself with his other arm, then looked down at the name in question. He scoffed weakly and shook his helm, a somewhat bitter grin crossing his expression.

“There’s no chance of that happening. I killed him in a fight to the death years and years ago.”

Again, Tarn’s spark did a sickly twist in his chassis, its pulses fluttering almost painfully.

Though he couldn’t bring himself to say anything, Tarn lifted up a faintly shaking hand and pointed imploringly at Deathsaurus’s other arm.

There was a long, torturous hesitation on Deathsaurus’s part, but he finally let his other arm fall away as he looked up at Tarn. The DJD leader didn’t dare look down at the winged mech’s revealed arm, forcing himself to lock his gaze with the warworld commander’s, wanting to hear the name spoken from Deathsaurus first.

“You wouldn’t happen to know a ‘Damus’, would you?” Deathsaurus asked, unhappy defeat obvious on his features.

In that moment, it felt like Tarn’s world shattered away from him, the pieces dissolving into a flood of relief and elation that drowned out every other thought in Tarn’s mind and encompassed his spark. Words, in a bit of rarity, failed him, and he stared back at Deathsaurus mutely, his emotions trapped under an icy shell of disbelief. It was only when Deathsaurus flinched weakly, his upset obviously growing, that Tarn snapped out of his daze.

With trembling hands, Tarn reached up and carefully undid the clasps of his mask, unable to see the wide-opticed look of surprise that Deathsaurus was giving him. Though he almost dropped the mask that he had worn for so very, very long, Tarn managed to set it aside, and he looked up at Deathsaurus. Returning the beastformer’s wide-opticed stare with a weak, but hopeful, smile, Tarn gave a small nod.

Now it was Deathsaurus’s turn to be speechless, and the winged mech struggled to find any words that he could say that would be an even partially decent response. But there weren’t any, and a new mix of the relief and elation that Tarn had felt now flooded through Deathsaurus’s spark.

Lunging forward, Deathsaurus clasped his hands on the sides of the DJD leader’s helm, crushing his lips against Tarn’s, and giving them a firm, searing kiss. When it felt like his ventilation would stop, Deathsaurus leaned back, but only for a split second. He kissed Tarn again...and again...and again.

By the second kiss, Tarn was eagerly, almost greedily, returning the affections, pulling Deathsaurus to him and pressing their frames against each other’s. He clutched at the winged mech possessively, his spark thrumming so fast in his chassis Tarn swore he could hear the pulses in his helm. The thought that Deathsaurus was his, and he was Deathsaurus’s, kept repeating over and over in his mind.

He was Deathsaurus’s.

Deathsaurus was his.

Though his hands still trembled, Tarn stroked at Deathsaurus’s frame reverently, whispering adoring and loving nonsense in between the fiery kisses that the winged mech was gracing him with. His words only seemed to spur Deathsaurus on, and soon, the beastformer had managed to clamber atop Tarn, straddling them carefully and kissing them fervently the whole time.

Guiding Tarn’s hands as they trailed and caressed at his frame, Deathsaurus began to work his kisses along Tarn’s jawline, being mindful but not deterred, by the scars that were now exposed. The winged mech tried to return Tarn’s loving words with those of his own, even as he stumbled over them, and silently hoped that his actions would make up for his lack of eloquence. In between kisses, he would nuzzle his face against Tarn’s, nip gently at their bottom lip, and smile at the sweet words the DJD leader was whispering to him.

The passions between them heating and rising, their devotion to each other started by a simple look, solidified by each bearing the other’s name, Tarn and Deathsaurus completed the night with a single, but powerful, pact that ensured they would never be without the presence of the other.

Conjunx Endurae in name and spirit.


End file.
